Bound By Silence
by Ilex the Elder
Summary: The aftermath of Brock's experience on Valencia Island. (Yes, I know it's been done before, but I wanted to have a crack at it.)
1. Chapter 1

"Just a few feet more…almost there."

Slowly, he kept crawling through the tall grass. A Rattata poked its head out of a nearby bush and regarded him curiously.

"It's gotta be close by…gotta be around here somewhere."

The effort of lifting his head nearly made him pass out, but he wanted to make sure he was heading in the right direction. He hadn't come this far only to miss his goal by inches.

The landscape swayed dizzily as he scanned the horizon.

"Where is it?"

And then he caught sight of the little white house shining like a beacon against the soft orange sunset. 

"I did it."

And with a smile on his face, he collapsed facedown in the grass.

---

"We got some great bargains at the store, didn't we, Mimie?"

"Mime-mime!" Delia Ketchum's Pokémon nodded in agreement as the two headed back to their house.

"We'd better hurry, Mimie. Professor Oak will be here soon for dinner and I've got to get every…did you just say something, Mimie?"

Mimie shook its head. "Mime."

"That's funny. I thought I just heard something." Delia looked around. "I don't see anything, do you?"

Mimie shook its head again.

"Oh well, must be my imagination. Let's head…" Delia stopped and turned around. "Wait, there it is again. Didn't you hear it, Mimie? It sounded like something moaning. Sounded like it was close by, too."

Mimie looked around, but didn't see anything.

Delia began walking in a circle through the tall grass next to the path, searching for the source of the mysterious noise. "I wonder if it's a Pokémon making that noise, Mimie. Maybe it's hurt or…" She then shrieked as her foot made contact with a large brown lump lying in the grass. Mimie leapt forward, ready to protect her.

"It's…it's…what is it, Mimie?" Cautiously, Delia knelt down next to the object she had just stepped on. Slowly the lump rolled over, making a weak attempt with its arm to fend off the person that had just stepped on it. "No…don't…please…"

Delia gasped when she saw who was underneath the battered brown fedora and coat. "Brock!"

Even though his vision was fuzzy, the sound of the familiar voice made him break into a weak grin. "Mrs. Ketchum? Is that you?"

"Oh my goodness! Mimie, help me get him up!" Delia threw aside her shopping basket and, with the assistance of her Pokémon, helped Brock to his feet. "Come on, Mimie. We've got to get him home right away!" The two half-dragged, half-carried the nearly unconscious boy down the path to the house on the opposite end of the street. As soon as they had stepped across the threshold of the Ketchum residence, Brock realized where he was and sighed with relief.

"Thank you, Mrs. Ketchum," he said in a faint whisper. And with that, he lost consciousness.

"Oh my goodness! Mimie, let's get him to the…" Just then, there was a knock at the back door. "Oh no, who can that be? Mimie, go get the back door!" As Mimie scampered down the hall to the kitchen, Delia struggled to carry Brock to the sofa in the living room. Even though the boy was slightly shorter than she was, he weighed just as much as she did, and her legs started trembling with the effort of supporting his dead weight.

"Delia, what's going on? Mimie seems upset about…what in the world?!"

"Samuel, help me," Delia pleaded as she tried to keep from dropping Brock on the floor.

Professor Oak quickly raced through the kitchen and into the living room to Delia's side. He caught Brock just as Delia lost her grip on the unconscious boy. 

Professor Oak then gasped when the battered brown fedora tumbled off and he saw who the unconscious boy was. "Brock? What in the world is he doing here?" 

"Thanks, Samuel," Delia said as she and Professor Oak carried Brock to the couch.

"My God, what happened to him?" Professor Oak exclaimed at the sight of the boy's haggard face. He didn't look anything like the happy, confident boy he had spoken to just a few weeks ago during a conference call to Professor Ivy's lab.

"I don't know, Samuel. Mimie and I found him lying in the grass on our way home from the grocery store," Delia explained.

Professor Oak, who was in the middle of checking Brock's pulse, looked up. "Have you called for a doctor yet, Delia?"

"No. Do you think I should?"

Professor Oak nodded. "I think he could use some medical attention. He looks like he's in pretty rough shape.

"Oh dear. I'll go call the doctor right away."

As Delia hurried into the next room to call the doctor, Professor Oak continued his examination of the unconscious boy. "He's shaking like a leaf. See if you can find a blanket for him, Mimie."

The Pokémon nodded and hurried upstairs. It returned a moment later with a brightly colored quilt. 

"Thanks, Mimie." Professor Oak took the quilt from the Pokémon and was covering Brock with it when Delia returned.

"The doctor said he'd be here shortly." Delia leaned over and gently touched Brock's sunken cheek. "Poor boy, he looks like he's half-dead. What in the world do you think happened to him?"

Professor Oak tucked the quilt around Brock's chin. "I don't know, Delia. But from what I can tell, it was pretty bad, whatever it was."

__

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Things had started off innocently enough. He had decided to stay with Professor Ivy and her trio of assistants because, quite simply, they needed him more than Ash and Misty did. The place had been in total disarray – dishes stacked to the ceiling, papers and journals scattered everywhere, dust inches thick on the tables and windowsills, and he even found a Pidgey building a nest in the living room's rafters. Brock had had plenty of experience taking care of a household since his mother died, and it didn't take him long to get the place back in order. The trio of lab assistants, sisters named Carrie, Mary, and Terri, marveled at Brock's ability to keep the place sparkling. During their tenure with Professor Ivy, they had never known what a clean house looked like. Even Professor Ivy had been impressed by Brock's ability to keep the place neat and organized. One morning, Brock had found her searching under the cushions of the couch for one of her scientific journals. 

"It's right here, Professor Ivy," Brock said, pointing to a neat stack on her desk. "Third one from the top." He handed the magazine to her. "Here you go_. Pokémon Science Monthly_, volume 23, issue number 5." 

Professor Ivy smiled. "You really are amazing, Brock. I don't know how I managed to get along without you all these years."

Brock blushed. "Oh, it's no trouble, Professor. It's just that once you put everything in its place and keep it there, it's much easier to find whatever you want. Let me show you." He took her hand and led her into the adjacent storage room. "What I've done here is put all the Pokémon food on the bottom two shelves. Canned food goes on the floor, and bagged food goes on the shelf above it. That way, it stays off of the floor so bugs can't get into it, but at the same time, you don't have to hurt yourself lifting it off of the top shelf. And on this shelf…" Brock turned around and noticed that Professor Ivy was staring at him. "Um, Professor Ivy?"

"You know, Brock, you really are a wonder. I don't know how I can begin to thank you for all your hard work around here."

"Like I said, Professor Ivy, it's no trouble at all. I enjoy working here."

Professor Ivy moved closer to Brock until her body was against his. "That's good, Brock, because I enjoy having you here."

Suddenly uncomfortable by the sensation of her breasts pressing against his chest, Brock made an attempt to back away. "Uh…well, thanks, Professor. Guess I'd better be heading outside to check on the Pokémon now." He quickly fled out the door.

For the rest of the afternoon he tried to concentrate on his chores, but he found his thoughts drifting back to Professor Ivy and their encounter in the storage closet.

__

Maybe I just imagined it all. Maybe she didn't mean anything by it. Maybe she was just trying to be nice and I misinterpreted her.

But he still couldn't forget the feeling of her breasts against his body. And the feeling both excited him and frightened him. 

--- 

"Will he be all right, Doctor Byington?"

The doctor finished bandaging a cut over Brock's right eye. "His injuries are superficial – a few cuts and scrapes. But the boy's suffering from exhaustion and he's half-starved. What he needs more than anything is to get some rest and some good, nourishing food."

"Don't worry about that, Doctor," Delia reassured him. "I'm going to take care of him until he's back on his feet. Matter of fact, I'm going to go make some soup right now for Brock to eat when he wakes up."

Professor Oak's stomach rumbled noisily. "Speaking of food…"

"Oh, Samuel. I forgot! The reason why I asked you over in the first place was for dinner, wasn't it?" Delia apologized. "Well, come into the kitchen with me and I'll fix you some soup, too. Would you like to stay for dinner too, Doctor?"

"No, thank you," Doctor Byington smiled as he picked up his medical bag. "I've got to be heading home. My wife probably has dinner waiting. I'll call in a couple of days to see how he's doing."

"Thank you again for coming so fast, Doctor," Delia said.

"No problem. I'll see myself out."

After the doctor left, Delia turned to her Pokémon. "Mimie, go upstairs and get one of the beds in Ash's room ready. Brock's going to be staying with us until he's better."

Mimie nodded and headed upstairs.

"And you come with me, Samuel," Delia said, taking his arm. "Let's go have some soup."

As the two ate dinner in the kitchen, Delia kept glancing over Professor Oak's shoulder, trying to keep a watchful eye on the boy on the sofa.

"Delia, he'll be all right," Professor Oak reassured her. "You heard what the doctor said. His injuries aren't serious."

"I just want to make sure I can hear him if he wakes up," Delia said, peering around her friend's shoulder once more. "Samuel, what do you think happened to Brock?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to try to find out." Professor Oak pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "I'm going to head home now and give Professor Ivy a call to let her know that her assistant is here."

"That's a good idea. She must be frantic with worry. And thanks again for all your help, Samuel. I'm glad you stopped by when you did," Delia smiled as she opened the back door.

"Be sure to call me if you need anything, Delia. I'll stop by later when I'm through feeding the Pokémon and putting them away for the night."

Delia watched as Professor Oak headed through the backyard back to his house, then went back inside to check on her soup. She wanted to make sure that Brock had a nice hot meal waiting for him when he woke up.

Once he was back at the lab, Professor Oak dialed Professor Ivy's number. A dark-haired woman in her early to mid forties appeared on the phone's video screen.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Professor Ivy."

"Professor Oak, it's good to hear from you again," Professor Ivy smiled at her caller. "I'm not finished with the study on climatic variation on the coloration of Ekans yet, but I'll let you know as soon as…"

"That's not why I called, Professor Ivy. What I wanted to tell you was that Brock is here."

Professor Ivy looked shocked. "Brock? He's with you?"

"Yes. He turned up in Pallet Town a couple of hours ago. A friend of mine found him half-dead by the roadside. The boy was so weak he could barely stand. Fortunately, the doctor says that he'll make a complete recovery."

"Oh. Well…that's good," Professor Ivy said somewhat nervously. 

"We thought you might be worried and wondering about his whereabouts, so I thought I'd call you to let you know that he's safe here."

Professor Ivy didn't respond.

"Professor Ivy?" Professor Oak thought his colleague looked a bit pale. "Are you all right?"

"Um…yes…uh, thank you for the news about Brock, Professor Oak. We've all been wondering what happened to him."

"Professor Ivy, why did Brock leave Valencia Island? The last time I spoke with him, he said that he was having a wonderful time studying with you."

"I…uh…did Brock say anything about what happened here?"

"No. He hasn't been able to tell us anything about how he got here. He was still unconscious when I left."

Professor Ivy looked visibly relieved. "Well, then I'll tell you what happened. I had to let Brock go."

Professor Oak was surprised. "Let Brock go? But why?"

"I didn't get the grant money for a study that I was hoping for. Because of that, I didn't have enough money to keep him on, so I told him that I had to let him go. He became quite upset and ran off. We combed the island for days searching for him. I didn't think he would take being fired so hard."

"Well, don't worry, Professor Ivy. He's safe with us now. I'll keep you posted on his condition. And thank you for letting us know what happened." Professor Oak noticed that Professor Ivy seemed upset. "You mustn't blame yourself for what happened to Brock. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes…well, good-night, Professor Oak. And thank you for calling."

Professor Oak continued to stare at the screen for several seconds after it went black.

__

Something doesn't seem right. I'd almost swear she was hiding something. But what?

Back at Valencia Island, Professor Ivy went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets until she found a bottle of vodka hidden in the back. She poured herself a glass and downed it in one gulp. 

She needed something to steady her nerves after that phone call.

__

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

A few days after the incident in the storage closet, Brock had convinced himself that he had imagined everything. Professor Ivy was just trying to be nice and he had completely misinterpreted her. 

Or so he thought. 

"Ah, there you are, Brock," Professor Ivy smiled as he came into the lab. "How are things going with the colony of gray Rattata on the southwest side of the island?"

"They like my new flavor of Poké Chow a lot, Professor Ivy. One of them liked it so much that he knocked me over running to get some." Brock rubbed his side.

The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Professor Ivy. "Brock, are you hurt?"

"Oh, I kind of smashed into a tree trunk when I fell and got a little banged up. I'll be okay."

"Maybe I'd better take a look at you, Brock," Professor Ivy said as she moved closer to him. "Why don't you have a seat on the Pokémon examination table and take off your shirt?"

"Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary, Professor Ivy. I just got a little bruised, that's all." 

"Still, I think I should check to make sure you haven't broken any ribs or have any internal injuries." She reached out and lightly ran her hand over his ribs. 

Something about that gesture triggered an uneasy feeling in Brock. "Um…no offense, Professor Ivy, but you're not a doctor. At least not one for humans, anyway."

"Brock, all Pokémon researchers are required to be trained in first aid annually. When you're working with wild Pokémon, there's always the danger of injury to yourself or your assistants. And there's not always a Nurse Joy around to help in an emergency, so it's important to have a through knowledge of human anatomy as well. Now take off your shirt so I can take a look at you and make sure you're all right."

Even though something didn't feel right about this, Brock didn't want to disobey his boss, so he took off his shirt and climbed up on the Pokémon examination table.

"Now lie down and let's have a look at you." Professor Ivy said as she gently pushed Brock down onto the table. "Now…how does that feel, Brock?" She ran her hands along his bare chest.

"Um….okay," Brock replied nervously. "But, Professor Ivy, I hurt my _side_. Not my chest."

"I have to check everywhere, Brock," she replied as her hands continued downward, caressing his sides. "How does that feel?"

"Um, that's a little uncomfortable," Brock squeaked. 

But he wasn't referring to just his ribs. The sensation of her hands caressing his body had caused the same uneasy feelings he had felt in the storage room to resurface.

"There's some bruising here," Professor Ivy murmured as she examined the dark mark on his right side. "I'd better make sure that you don't have any internal injuries." Brock nearly jumped off of the table as Professor Ivy's hands made their way to his abdomen. "Don't be nervous, Brock. I just want to make sure that you're all right. Just relax and let me feel around." 

Brock tried desperately to relax, but it was almost impossible with Professor Ivy's hands probing dangerously close to a critical area. And to his horror, Brock found himself becoming aroused by Professor Ivy's examination. 

__

Oh God, if she sees that I'm getting turned on by this…Brock's face started flaming with embarrassment.

"I'd better check to see if you have a hernia." And then, before he knew what was happening, Professor Ivy unzipped his pants and slipped one of her hands into his boxer shorts. Numb with shock, Brock couldn't even move while Professor Ivy's hand roamed over his private parts.

"Well, everything seems fine, Brock." Professor Ivy gave him one last squeeze before removing her hand. "You're a normal, healthy young man. You can get up now."

As Professor Ivy left, Brock laid on the table too bewildered to move.

__

What in the world just happened? 

--- 

"Brock. Brock, sweetie, wake up."

With a start, Brock awoke and found himself staring at a pretty auburn-haired woman. "Mrs. Ketchum? What…how did I…where am I?"

"It's okay, Brock. You're safe now," Delia said soothingly as she took his hand in hers. "Mimie and I found you by the side of the road in the grass. Don't you remember?"

Brock shook his head. "I don't remember much about the last few days."

"Well, you're safe now. And you're going to stay right here with me until you get better." Mimie brought out a tray of soup from the kitchen. "The doctor said you need to get plenty of food and rest to get your strength back." Delia held a spoonful of soup to the boy's parched lips. "It's chicken noodle. Just a little bit at first. And be careful, it's still hot."

Brock took a small sip and the sensation of the warm soup making its way to his empty stomach filled his entire body with warmth. Delia then proceeded to feed him the entire bowl of soup since the boy's hands were shaking too much for him to grip the spoon. As soon as Brock had finished the last spoonful, there was a knock at the front door.

"Mimie, could you get that, please?" Delia put down the soup bowl and tucked the blankets around Brock's shoulders while Mimie answered the front door.

"Hello, Delia. I thought I'd stop by and…" Professor Oak smiled at the sight of the boy sitting up on the couch. "Hello, Brock. How are you feeling?"

"Hi, Professor Oak." Brock made a weak attempt at a smile. "I'm kind of wiped out."

"That's not surprising, considering the state we found you in," Professor Oak replied. "But I'm glad to see that you're awake now. Your color looks better already."

"That's because he just ate an entire bowl of chicken noodle soup," Delia informed him. "And I'm glad you're here, Samuel. You can help me carry Brock upstairs to Ash's room."

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock protested. "You're already done more than enough for me. I really should be going." Brock attempted to stand up and nearly fell on his face.

"Look at you. You're so weak that you can barely stand!" Delia exclaimed as she helped Brock back onto the couch. "Now I'm not going to have any more talk of you leaving. You're staying right here with me until you've fully recovered."

"Delia's right, Brock," said Professor Oak. "You can't travel in your condition."

"Help me get him upstairs to Ash's room," Delia ordered as she grabbed one of Brock's arms. Professor Oak took the other one and the two carried Brock upstairs.

After they had placed Brock in the lower bunk in Ash's bedroom, Delia tucked the blankets up around Brock's chin. "There. Now you just lie back and get some sleep."

"Brock, do you want me to take care of your Pokémon while you convalesce?" asked Professor Oak.

Brock nodded weakly and reached for his belt. "I tried to keep them in their Poké balls as long as I could to save their strength," he explained as he handed the four red and white balls to Professor Oak. "We didn't have much food left the last couple of days, so I made sure that they ate first before I had anything to eat."

"Most trainers wouldn't have done that, Brock. Your Pokémon are fortunate to have a trainer as devoted as you," said Professor Oak. "Don't worry. I'll take care of them until you're on your feet again."

"Thank you," Brock whispered gratefully.

"I'll be in the next room tonight if you need me, Brock," said Delia. "And don't hesitate to call me if you need anything, understand?"

Brock nodded and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he was snoring softly.

"I'd better get back to the lab and take care of Brock's Pokémon," Professor Oak said as he and Delia headed downstairs. "And if you need anything tonight, call me."

Delia nodded. "Did you get in touch with Professor Ivy?"

Professor Oak slapped his forehead. "Yes! I forgot. That's why I came back over in the first place. I wanted to tell you what she said. The reason Brock isn't at her lab anymore is because he was fired."

Delia was shocked. "Fired? But why?"

"She said that she didn't have enough money to keep him on. She lost a major grant."

"Poor Brock. No wonder he's so distraught."

"Oh, and I heard from Ash earlier today. I forgot to tell you when I was here earlier with everything going on. He said to tell you that he and his friends are on their way back to Pallet Town. They should be back in a few days."

"Oh, that's good news," Delia said. "Maybe seeing his friends again will make Brock feel better."

"Be sure to call me if you need anything at all, Delia," Professor Oak said as he opened the front door. 

"I will," Delia smiled. "Good night."

__

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

After her examination of him, Brock deliberately tried to avoid being around Professor Ivy. He was too embarrassed by the whole experience to even face her. She had touched him. She knew that he had become aroused by her examination of him. And the whole situation had been humiliating in every way possible.

"Brock."

Brock leapt straight into the air at the sound of his boss's voice.

A shaking Brock turned to face a bikini-clad Professor Ivy. "I'm sorry, Brock. I didn't mean to startle you. I've been looking for you."

"You have?" Brock replied anxiously.

"Yes. I need your help with an experiment involving the school of Goldeen we located earlier."

"Uh, can't Carrie or Terri or Mary help you out, Professor?" Brock asked.

Professor Ivy shook her head. "No. All three of them are on the other side of the island gathering some data for me on the pair of albino Dodrio we discovered yesterday. You're the only one around. Follow me down to the beach and I'll tell you what to do."

Brock reluctantly followed his boss down to the beach, all the while trying to avoid looking at her curvaceous body, which appeared even more so in the skimpy swimsuit she was wearing.

"Okay, Brock. The Goldeen are out there." She pointed to a shimmering mass of white and gold fish Pokémon playing in the water. "What I need for you to do is help me place radio tags on their tail fins so we can track their movements."

"What do I need to do, Professor?" Brock asked, taking the tagging gun from her.

"First, you need to get out of those clothes," Professor Ivy ordered.

"Get out…? B-b-b-ut Professor, I didn't bring my swimsuit with me," Brock stammered, momentarily taken aback by his boss's request. "Why don't I head back to the lab and get it and then…"

"You can swim in your underwear," Professor Ivy said. "You don't have time to go back to the lab. The school of Goldeen will be gone by then. Come on, we don't have much time. Strip down and join me in the water."

Afraid that she was going to watch him disrobe, Brock headed for a nearby bush. Fortunately, Professor Ivy was already swimming out to the Goldeen and wasn't paying attention to him. Brock quickly stepped out of his clothes, grabbed the tagging gun, and followed his boss out to the school of fish.

"Grab one and clip the tag into its fin," Professor Ivy instructed. "I'll restrain it while you tag it."

Brock grabbed the Goldeen's slippery tail, squeezed the tagging gun, and successfully tagged the squirming fish Pokémon.

"There!" Professor Ivy grinned. "Good job, Brock. Come on, let's get to the rest of these."

After tagging the school of about thirty Goldeen, Professor Ivy grabbed onto the back of one and began swimming along with it. Brock watched in amazement as Professor Ivy laughed and began diving along with the fish. 

"There's nothing like the thrill of swimming along with a school of Goldeen, Brock," she said happily. "It's like being one with the Pokémon. You should try it. Matter of fact…" Brock's eyes widened as Professor Ivy removed her bikini top. "It's even better without your clothes on."

Brock choked. "Ah…uh…"

Professor Ivy tossed her bikini top aside and proceeded to remove the bottom of her swimsuit. "Don't be such a prude, Brock. Goldeen swim without any clothes on and it doesn't bother them."

"B-b-b-b-ut you're not a Goldeen, Professor," Brock stammered, staring at her bare breasts.

"But swimming without your clothes on is the next best thing to being one," Professor Ivy smiled. "There's nothing like the sensation of water rushing against your bare skin." Professor Ivy moved towards her stunned-looking assistant. "Come on, Brock. Try it. It's an incredible feeling. Nothing like you've ever experienced before."

Before he could stop her, Professor Ivy reached out and pulled the boy against her. Just seeing her naked had already aroused him to the point of discomfort, but now that she was pressing herself against him, he couldn't control himself much longer.

__

Stop it! Stop it, cried a voice in his head. _This is wrong! She's your boss!_

But the urges of his body were far more overpowering. For months he had dreamed about being with a woman. Nowadays, it seemed as if that was all he could think about. And now…now it was real. He was actually touching a naked woman. 

Actually, she was the one touching him. Touching him in ways that were so incredible, so unreal, so good. Touching him in ways that he had never even dreamed of.

"That's it, Brock," Professor Ivy murmured as she pulled down his underwear. "Don't be afraid."

And before he knew what was happening, he was inside her. And it was the most incredible sensation he had ever felt in his whole life. "I…can't….stop," he gasped as he felt himself losing control.

"Don't fight it, Brock," Professor Ivy said as she pressed herself tightly against him. "Just let it happen."

And afterwards, he didn't know how to feel. 

__

What happened? What in the world have I done?

On one hand, there was that voice in his head saying that what he and Professor Ivy had done was absolutely, utterly, totally wrong.

__

She's your boss, for God's sake. Why didn't you make her stop? Why didn't you say no?

But on the other hand, the things that she had done to him, the way she had touched him, the way she had made him feel…the truth was that it had felt so good that he hadn't wanted her to stop.

And the guilt he felt about that was overpowering.

__

Well, try to look on the bright side. At least you're not a virgin anymore. You've been dreaming about having sex for what seems like forever, and now you've finally done it.

But on the other hand…

__

But I didn't think it would happen this way. I always thought it would be with a girl my own age. My girlfriend or fiancee or something like that.

Professor Ivy had guessed that, too.

"You should be grateful, Brock," she had told him once they had made it back to the beach. "Most boys your age would give anything to learn from a woman. Especially an experienced woman."

But why? Why had she done what she did? As far as he knew, most women, especially women old enough to be his mother, didn't normally go around having sex with boys.

__

But you're not a boy anymore, Brock. You're a man now.

But he didn't feel like a man. He felt more like a confused kid.

Brock had always believed that you didn't make love with someone unless you cared a lot about them. And he wasn't sure if he loved Professor Ivy. Sure, he enjoyed looking at her, especially with those big breasts and round hips of hers. What guy wouldn't want to look at those? But he never felt the same goofy, giddy way around her the way he did around other girls his age. 

And did she love him? Or had she just used him?

Brock rolled over on his bed and buried his head in his pillow.

__

Oh God, I'm so confused.

--- 

"How's Brock this morning?" asked Professor Oak early the next morning when he showed up at Delia's back door.

Delia smiled at her visitor and led him to the kitchen table. "He's still asleep. He had a rough night last night, the poor thing."

"What's wrong? Is he in pain? You might want to ask the doctor to prescribe some medication for Brock if that's the case."

Delia handed Professor Oak a cup of hot tea and sat down to join him at the table. "It's not that kind of pain, Samuel. When I checked on him last night before I went to bed, I found him thrashing about and whimpering. He was having a nightmare. And it must've been a pretty bad one, too."

"Poor boy. I guess that's not surprising after the rough time he's been through."

"But that's not all. When I tried to wake him up, he said something. Something that really disturbed me."

"What was it?"

"He said, 'Don't touch me. Please don't hurt me, Professor Ivy'."

Professor Oak was incredulous. "'Don't hurt me, Professor Ivy?' Are you certain that's what he said, Delia?"

Delia nodded. "And during the night, he woke up screaming. Woke me up, too. When I went in to check on him, he didn't recognize me at all. It was like he was in a trance or something."

"Sounds like a night terror. Gary used to have those sometimes when he was younger."

"But when I tried to calm him down, he just kept saying the same thing over and over again."

"Which was?"

"'Please stop, Professor Ivy.' Oh Samuel, do you think that Professor Ivy did something to Brock?"

"Delia, Professor Ivy is a colleague of mine. She's a highly respected scientist in the world of Pokémon research. True, she does have the reputation for being a bit tough to deal with at times, but I find it hard to believe that she would actually harm one of her own students."

"Well, that's what it sure sounded like to me, Samuel," Delia insisted. 

"Where's Brock now?"

"He's still asleep. He's still exhausted, particularly after the night he had last night. Which reminds me - how are Brock's Pokémon doing?"

"Like Brock, they were pretty hungry and tired. But after a good night's rest and plenty of Poké Chow, they're all up and about this morning. Naturally, they're quite worried about Brock, but I told them that they could see him when he's feeling better."

"That might help Brock feel better," Delia smiled. 

"Which reminds me…I've got to get back to the lab and finish feeding everyone. I just stopped by to see how Brock was doing." Professor Oak got up from the table and handed his empty teacup to Delia. "But when I get back to the lab, I'll give Professor Ivy another call. I promised her that I'd let her know how Brock was doing."

"Ask her if she did anything to Brock," Delia said with an edge of anger in her voice.

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To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Brock spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to figure out his feelings for Professor Ivy and trying to comprehend what had happened the day before. He finally fell into an exhausted sleep just before sunrise and ended up oversleeping. He didn't realize he had overslept until he was awakened by a knock at his door. Glancing at the clock, Brock was horrified to see that it was nearly ten A.M. Brock jumped out of bed, threw open the door, and saw that his visitor was…

"Professor Ivy?"

"Where have you been, Brock? It's nearly ten."

Brock gulped. "I'm sorry, Professor Ivy. I…I must've overslept." Brock then noticed that Professor Ivy was staring at him. In his haste to answer the door, he had forgotten to put on a shirt and was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.

Professor Ivy let her gaze wander down to his underwear. "I see."

Brock grabbed the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around his waist. "I'm sorry, Professor. It won't happen again, I promise."

Professor Ivy's eyes made their way back to the boy's reddening face. "Brock, I'd like to speak with you in my office as soon as you finish your morning chores."

Brock gulped anxiously. "Yes, ma'am."

"You'd better get started on your chores right away. You're already running three hours behind," Professor Ivy reminded him as she headed down the hallway.

Brock sank back down on his bed. "Oh man, she's gonna fire me," he moaned.

Shortly before noon, Brock had finished his morning duties and knocked nervously on the door of his boss's office.

"Come in," Professor Ivy called, not bothering to look up from the report she was writing.

Brock peered around the door. "Professor Ivy?"

"Ah, there you are, Brock. Have a seat." She pointed to the chair next to her desk.

Legs suddenly shaky, Brock slowly made his way to the chair and sat down. Professor Ivy put down her pen and looked at the nervous boy. 

"Brock, ever since you came to my lab several months ago, you've been nothing but a godsend to me. You've turned this place from a pigsty into a model of efficiency. You've been the best assistant I've ever had."

Surprised by her praise (he had been bracing himself for the words 'you're fired'), Brock started to stammer. "Uh…t-t-thank you, Professor."

"And because you've been so efficient, I was naturally quite worried when you didn't show up for breakfast this morning."

Brock's heart sank. _Uh-oh, here it comes._

"Like I said, Professor Ivy, I'm sorry that I overslept. I didn't sleep too well last night. It won't happen again."

"Why didn't you sleep well last night, Brock? Is something troubling you?" Professor Ivy got up from her chair and moved to the edge of her desk. She then seated herself on the corner of the desk directly in front of the worried boy.

Brock tore his eyes away from her shapely legs, which were now in his face. "Uh…yeah, Professor Ivy. There is."

"Well, what is it, Brock? You know that you can tell me anything. Anything at all." She let one leg dangle closer to her assistant's face.

"Um…I…I just wanted to say that…that I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. It'll never happen again. We…I…shouldn't have done what we did yesterday."

Professor Ivy raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, Brock, you seemed to enjoy it as much as I did." 

Brock felt his face going red with shame. That part was true. "I…uh…don't get me wrong, Professor Ivy. I really like working with you a lot. It's…it's just that since you're my boss and all that…well, it's not right."

"But that's what makes it so right, Brock. I am your boss. And because I'm your boss, you have to do everything I tell you."

A cold chill went through Brock. Something about the way Professor Ivy was now looking at him and what she had just said made his heart start racing with fear.

Professor Ivy stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why, Brock. You're trembling." She slowly began massaging his shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Brock. As long as you do exactly what I tell you, you don't have anything to be afraid of." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. 

Brock quickly turned away. "Professor Ivy…please."

Her right hand continued to rub his shoulder while her left hand made its way downward. "Don't worry, Brock. Just sit back and relax."

As soon as her hand touched the material of his pants, Brock leapt up out of his chair. "No! Professor Ivy…I can't. I can't do this! It's wrong!"

"You didn't have any problems 'doing it' yesterday, as I recall," Professor Ivy said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Like I said, Brock, you should be getting down on your knees and thanking me. Most boys your age would kill to learn about sex from an experienced woman."

Brock cowered against the wall. "Please, Professor Ivy…I can't…I can't…"

Professor Ivy slowly advanced on him. "Oh, but you will, Brock. You will if you want to keep on working here." 

The blood drained out of Brock's face.

"You will do exactly what I tell you to do, Brock. And if you obey, you may get some pleasure out of it yourself, just like yesterday." Professor Ivy's hand made its way back to Brock's crotch. "Just relax, Brock. Relax and let me take care of you."

--- 

"Brock, what are you doing out of bed?" Delia exclaimed as the weary-looking boy staggered down the stairs.

"I couldn't sleep anymore, Mrs. Ketchum. The growling from my stomach is keeping me awake." 

"Would you like some hot tea and toast? Oatmeal? Scrambled eggs? The doctor said that you needed to eat plenty of good food to get your strength back."

"All of those sound pretty good, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock said as he sank down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Delia placed a pot on the stove and started searching for some oatmeal. "How do you feel?"

"Like an Onix ran over me," he replied wearily.

"Well, you did have a rough night last night. But you don't worry about a thing. I'm going to take care of you until you're on your feet again. And don't worry about your Pokémon, either. Professor Oak stopped by this morning and said that they're all doing fine at his place."

Brock took a sip of the orange juice Delia had just placed in front of him. "Thanks, Mrs. Ketchum."

Delia placed two slices of bread in the toaster and then heard a knock at the back door. 

"Well, it's good to see you up and about again, Brock," Professor Oak smiled as he came into the kitchen. "How do you feel?"

"Better, now that I've had some of Mrs. Ketchum's fresh-squeezed orange juice," Brock replied, draining the last drop from the bottom of his glass.

"Your Pokémon are all doing fine at my lab, Brock. When I left, Geodude and Onix were playing with Muk and Kingler, Vulpix was eating its third bowl of Poke Chow, and Zubat was soaring high above the grounds of the preserve. So you don't have to worry about a thing other than concentrating on getting well," Professor Oak reassured him.

"Any news?" Delia asked.

"No," replied Professor Oak. "No one answered when I tried calling Professor Ivy's lab."

Brock turned pale and started shaking violently. "That name….that name…"

"Brock, what's wrong?" Professor Oak said with alarm.

Brock sank to the floor and curled up in a fetal position. "No…don't say that name…."

Delia ran over and knelt down by Brock's side. 

"No…not that name…" the boy moaned.

Professor Oak stared at Brock, horrified by the boy's reaction to Professor Ivy's name.

Delia attempted to lay a reassuring hand on Brock's shoulder, but he flinched and pulled away from her touch. "No…don't touch me…please don't touch me…" the boy whimpered, curling himself further into a ball.

"Do you think he's having a seizure, Samuel?" Delia asked anxiously. 

"I…I don't know, Delia." He started rummaging in the pockets of his lab coat. "I think I have a vial of Sleep Powder in here somewhere. I could try to sedate him with it."

"Brock, this is Mrs. Ketchum," Delia said in a low, soothing voice. "I'm right here, Brock. I won't let anything hurt you. Please let me help you."

With a sob, Brock threw himself into her arms and began to cry.

"Shh, it's all right Brock," Delia whispered as she started to rock him back and forth. "It's okay. You're safe now." 

Professor Oak watched in silence as Delia continued to rock the sobbing boy and stroke his hair until he fell asleep against her bosom.

"What in the world did she do to you, Brock?" Delia said softly as she laid her cheek against the top of his head.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," Professor Oak said, his voice harsh with anger. 

__

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Brock lay on his bed, sobbing. Professor Ivy had utterly humiliated him. She had violated him and used him as if he were her slave. She had done degrading things to him – things that he never knew existed before and knew he could never tell anyone about. And all the while she kept reminding him that he was powerless to stop her.

"You can't tell anyone about this, Brock. They'll never believe you." 

"The authorities always believe the woman in these situations. All I have to do is say that you raped me and they'll believe me."

"Tell and they'll put you in jail forever. And you know what they do to cute boys like you in jail, don't they?" And she had told him, too. Told him in excruciating, graphic detail. 

And she had hit him. When he hadn't become aroused enough to satisfy her, she became furious and called him all sorts of vile, disgusting names. Then she struck him – slapped him so hard that the red imprint of her hand was still visible on his cheek hours later. 

He hurt. Hurt all over. Not only from the physical wounds, but from the emotional ones as well. 

__

Why did she do this to me?

--- 

"Sorry, Professor Oak," said the young, bespectacled assistant. "Professor Ivy is in the middle of some important research and says that she can't be…"

"Find her now," Professor Oak said. "Or else I'm getting on a plane to Valencia Island and coming to see her myself."

The girl, whose name was Carrie, was terrified by the look in Professor Oak's eyes. "Um…I'll go check again and see if she's around." The girl fled. Minutes later, a harried-looking Professor Ivy appeared on the videophone's television screen. 

"Professor, this had better be important. I'm in the middle of a very important experiment right now and…"

Professor Oak cut her off. "I thought you might like to have an update on your former lab assistant's condition, Professor Ivy."

Professor Ivy frowned. "Is that what this is all about? Professor, I appreciate your telling me about Brock, but I think this could have waited until…"

"No, it couldn't have," Professor Oak said with growing anger. "I thought you might like to know that the boy had a rather strong reaction to your name when I accidentally mentioned it earlier."

Despite the steel in her voice, sweat started to glisten on Professor Ivy's brow. "Really? What kind of reaction?"

"The boy started shaking violently and collapsed, all the while pleading for us not to say your name. He's obviously suffered some sort of severe emotional trauma, and I'd like for you to help me shed some light on what may have caused it, Professor Ivy." 

"Are you accusing me of traumatizing my assistant, Professor Oak?" The steel in her voice matched his word for word. 

"I'm just saying that something happened to Brock on Valencia Island and I'd like to know what, Professor Ivy."

"With all due respect, Professor Oak, the relationship between me and my former assistant is none of your business. The boy obviously couldn't deal with being fired and snapped."

"I don't think getting fired would have caused him to wake up screaming for you to stay away from him and to stop hurting him."

The bullet struck home, and the expression on Professor Ivy's face told Professor Oak that Delia's suspicions had been correct. 

"Professor Oak," Professor Ivy said in a voice that could barely contain her fury, "if you continue to make these accusations about me abusing my student, may I remind you of a certain incident twelve years ago when someone else was accused of improper conduct with their underage lab assistant."

Professor Oak's jaw clenched in fury_._

"Yes, I can see that you do remember, don't you?" Professor Ivy said in a voice that indicated that she had successfully turned the tables on her accuser. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do need to get back to my work. And let's have no more talk about these baseless accusations, shall we?"

The videophone's screen went black. Professor Oak picked up his pen and hurled it at the screen.

"You bitch. You rotten bitch."

__

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7

Delia sat by the couch, watching the boy sleep. 

__

Poor thing. I don't know what that woman did to you, but as long as you're here, I'm going to keep you safe from harm. 

Once in a while, the slow, steady breathing would be punctuated by a whimper, and Delia would reach out and gently stroke Brock's head until the whimpering ceased.

Delia jumped as the kitchen door slammed open with a loud bang. She ran into the kitchen and discovered a cursing Professor Oak trying to fix the spring he had just broken on her screen door.

"Samuel, be quiet! Brock's still sleeping and you're going to…" She then saw that his face was red with fury. "Samuel, what's wrong?"

"That conniving, rotten, back-stabbing bitch!" he swore as he gave up trying to fix the door and hurled the spring across the room.

"Samuel? What in the world has gotten into you?" Delia grabbed his arm and led him to the kitchen table. "Sit down. You're starting to scare me."

"I'm sorry, Delia. It's just that I spoke with Professor…" Remembering Brock's reaction from last time, he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.

"It's okay, Samuel. Brock's still asleep."

"How is he, by the way?"

Delia nodded in the direction of the living room. "He's been sleeping ever since you left. Anyway, what did she say?"

"You were right, Delia. She did do something to Brock. She didn't come out and say it directly, but I know she harmed him in some way."

"How?"

"Because I saw it in her face. She tried to deny it, but I know that she's guilty." Professor Oak banged his fist on the table. "I can't believe I ever trusted that woman."

"Then what do we do now?"

Professor Oak sighed. "That's the problem. When I accused her of improper conduct, she had the gall to remind me of a similar skeleton in my closet."

Delia was confused. "Similar…? I don't understand, Samuel. What do you mean?"

"Think back twelve years ago, Delia."

Delia pondered his words for a moment and then she realized what he was saying. "Samuel, that happened a long time ago! And both you and I know that you're not Ash's father!"

"I know that and you know that. And hopefully, by now, most of Pallet Town knows that. But even today a few of my colleagues still believe that I was the one who got you pregnant while you were working at my lab."

"Samuel, when Ash's father ran out on me, you were the only one who stood by me." Delia took his hand in hers. "And I'll always be grateful to you for that."

Professor Oak gave her hand a small squeeze. "Thank you, Delia. But you have to admit that the whole situation did and still does look rather suspicious. Teenage lab assistant turns up pregnant, the baby's father is nowhere in sight, and the kindly professor offers the girl a place to stay and takes care of her when her mother throws her out of the house. Why would the good professor go to all that trouble just for one teenage girl? Why indeed?" He smiled grimly. "Unless the good professor happened to be the one that got the girl pregnant."

Delia shook her head. "Samuel, both you and I know that's not the reason why you let me move in with you when I got pregnant with Ash. I had nowhere else to go. And you were the only friend I had then. I don't know what I would've done if it hadn't been for you."

"Thank you, Delia. That means a lot to me. Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that most people believed then that the reason I took you into my house was because you were carrying my child. Even today, some people still believe it. Matter of fact, when I was giving a lecture at Celadon University a couple of days ago, I overheard someone say that 'Oak's bastard son' had just won the Orange League championship."

Delia was stunned. "I…I had no idea people were saying things like that about you."

"It doesn't bother me, Delia. I've heard it so often over the years that I just simply ignore it. And most of my colleagues believe my side of the story, which is the most important thing. But even so, I do know that the cloud of suspicion that's hung over my head for years has cost me several important research grants and teaching opportunities."

"But Samuel, you didn't do anything wrong! You could take a blood test to prove that you're not Ash's father!"

"True, that might put a stop to those rumors. But it wouldn't put a stop to the rumors that you and I had an affair. There's no way you can disprove that with a blood test."

"You and I had a….no! Samuel, _nothing happened_ between us when I was working at your lab!"

"Delia, the problem is that the stories have persisted too long. Even if the blood test proved that I wasn't Ash's father, some people will always believe that you and I were sleeping together then just because I took you into my home. And if I accuse Professor Ivy of molesting Brock, she made it clear that no one would believe me based on my past history with you. And the sad truth is that she's right."

"I…I don't believe it. Samuel, there must be something you can do!"

"Think about it, Delia. Would you believe the accusations of improper conduct with a student from someone who has been accused of the same thing?"

"Well, what if I accused her instead of you?"

Professor Oak smiled bitterly. "'Oak's mistress'? The teenage mother of his love child? Unfortunately Delia, they won't believe you either."

Delia flung the teacup that was sitting on the table across the room, shattering it into pieces next to the spring from the screen door. "That bitch!"

"That's exactly what I said," Professor Oak said with a grim chuckle.

"So now what do we do?" Delia said helplessly.

"Well, the first thing is to make sure that Brock gets his health back and stays as far away from Valencia Island and that woman as possible. And as long as he's under your roof, that shouldn't be a problem. Second, if Brock needs a job, I'll take him on as my assistant. He can stay at my place and work for me." 

"Oh, speaking of which, I'd better go check on him." Delia got up and went into the next room. "He's still sleeping," she announced a minute later when she returned. "Thank goodness. I was afraid that I woke him up when I threw the cup on the floor."

"I'd better get back to the lab," Professor Oak said, standing up. "And when I come back later, I'll bring you some glue and a new spring for your door."

---

Carrie dodged the coffee cup that had been sent flying in her direction.

"Leave me alone!" Professor Ivy shouted at her terrified assistant. "And if you or any of your sisters disturb me, I'll fire all of you, understand?"

Carrie picked up the broken cup and scurried out of her boss's office as fast as she could.

"Carrie, what's wrong?" asked Mary, who had been waiting outside in the hallway with her sister. They had heard Professor Ivy's shouting all the way down at the other end of the lab.

"She's been drinking again," a shaking Carrie told her sisters. "And she's pissed at me because I was the one who sent for her to answer Professor Oak's phone call. At least she missed me this time." She held out the broken coffee mug.

"Do you think it's true?" asked Terri. "Do you really think she did something bad to Brock?"

During their boss's telephone conversation with Professor Oak, the three had been eavesdropping and had overheard everything.

"I don't know," said Mary. "But I do know that if we let on that we overheard her phone conversation, she'll probably do something bad to us, too."

"Especially when she's got the bottle of booze with her," said Carrie. 

"At least she only gets drunk when she's upset about something," said Terri, taking the broken coffee cup from her sister. "I'd hate to be around her if she did this every day."

"Well, let's just leave her alone. At least she won't bother us about the results of the Magikarp experiment for the rest of the day," Mary said.

"Maybe she'll be too hung over tomorrow to remember that we forgot to finish gathering all the data on it," Terri said hopefully.

"I've got an idea. Since she's gonna be holed up in her office getting wasted for the rest of the day, let's take the ferry over to the amusement park at Mandarin Island," Carrie suggested.

"Yeah. Good idea, Sis!" said Mary and Terri in unison.

And the three headed for the beach.

---

On the other side of the door Professor Ivy was in the middle of her third glass of vodka. Professor Oak's phone call had rattled her so much that she needed something to calm herself down. 

"That son of a bitch." She knew all too well that her colleague had figured out what she had done to Brock. And if he went public with it, her career as a researcher would be destroyed. 

But at least she had had the sense to play her trump card. 

"What a hypocrite," she slurred. The look on his face had been worth it. How dare he, the high-and-mighty Professor Oak, accuse her of abusing her student when he himself had knocked up his lab assistant years earlier? He had vehemently denied it, and the university had chosen to believe him based on his outstanding reputation.

Professor Ivy sneered as she took another sip of her drink. "'Outstanding reputation'. What a joke."

Even so, there was still talk of "Oak's bastard son" in the research community even today.

And hopefully, that would be enough to keep him at bay. 

He had gotten away with it. And she would, too.

__

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

Brock had eventually fallen into an exhausted sleep, but he couldn't escape his attacker even in his dreams. He had one nightmare after the other about Professor Ivy assaulting him, taunting him, hitting him.

Finally, just before dawn, Brock slipped out of bed. Although he was still sore from the previous day's attack, he hurried through his chores, all the while being careful not to make any noise that would wake the inhabitants of the lab. Then he grabbed his backpack and fled to the far side of the island. 

For the rest of the morning, Brock and his Pokémon hid among the colony of Butterfree that inhabited the woods on the edge of the western shore of the island. Brock had befriended the colony while performing his research and knew that he would be safe there.

"Geodude, what are we gonna do?" Brock wondered out loud as he fed his Pokémon their lunch. Zubat, concerned about its trainer, flew down and nuzzled Brock's head comfortingly.

"Thanks, Zubat," Brock said, handing his Pokémon a nugget of Poké Chow. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

Vulpix, who had been sitting in Brock's lap, reached up and licked away the tear that had slid out of her trainer's eye. "Don't worry, Vulpix," he reassured the fire fox Pokémon as he hugged her close to his heart. "As long as you guys are with me, that's the most important thing."

Onix, who had been keeping a low profile (Brock was afraid that someone might spot the huge Pokémon), lay at Brock's feet like a faithful dog. Suddenly, the giant Pokémon stiffened and made a low growling sound. 

"What is it, Onix? Do you hear something?"

The stone snake nodded and moved closer to protect its trainer.

"Back in your Poké balls, guys," Brock said as he quickly recalled his Pokémon and gathered up his supplies.

"Professor Ivy!"

__

That name…

A cold chill went through Brock and he started shaking violently.

"Professor Ivy!" Terri called again.

Brock looked up and saw that Carrie, Mary, and Terri were coming down the path towards the beach. Quickly recovering his wits, he grabbed his things and ducked out of sight behind some bushes.

"I don't get it," said Mary. "I thought Professor Ivy said she'd meet us here."

"Yeah, and why do we have to help her put ear tattoos on all the Rattata? I though that was Brock's experiment," Carrie complained.

"Brock disappeared somewhere," said Terri. "I haven't seen him all morning. Have you?"

Carrie and Mary shook their heads.

Brock curled himself tighter into a ball, hoping that the sisters wouldn't see him.

Just then, there was a rustling in the brush up ahead.

"Hey, there she is! Professor Ivy! Over here!" Mary waved to her boss, who was approaching from the opposite path.

At the sight of his assailant, Brock immediately felt sick. As Professor Ivy came closer he prayed he wouldn't throw up and reveal his hiding place, although his heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure she could hear it.

"Hello, girls," said Professor Ivy. "Ready to get started? I spotted the colony of gray Rattata on my way over. They're about a quarter of a mile back down the path."

"Professor Ivy, why do we have to do this?" Mary complained. "I thought this was Brock's research project."

"Speaking of which, have you seen Brock today?" asked Professor Ivy.

Brock held his breath, praying that Professor Ivy couldn't hear the frantic hammering of his heart. 

"No," replied Terri.

"He must've gone out before the sun came up," said Carrie.

"Well, if you do see him, tell him that I want to see him in my office as soon as he gets in," said Professor Ivy.

Brock's stomach lurched. 

__

Oh God, she's going to rape me again. 

He couldn't go through that again. Emotionally, he knew he wouldn't survive another assault like the one yesterday.

__

Run. Get away from her. It's your only chance.

But he couldn't move. He was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn't even breathe.

"Come on, girls, let's get going. The Rattata are waiting." Professor Ivy motioned to her assistants, and the four headed back down the path to the woods.

Brock remained in his hiding place for several minutes until he was certain that they were gone. Then he grabbed his belongings and fled in the opposite direction. 

He couldn't go back to the lab. If he did, she'd find him and hurt him again. And again. And again. 

The only way he could get away was to get off the island and never come back.

For the rest of the day, he hid among the foliage surrounding the beach, waiting until nightfall. The last ferry off the island left at nine; if he could just make it on that, he'd be free. 

Even though he would be under the cover of darkness, he was still afraid that someone would recognize him. Fortunately, he found an old trench coat and battered fedora in the charity donation box just up the street from the harbor. They were a couple of sizes too big for him, but all the better. That way, he could hide underneath the hat's wide brim and no one would see his face. 

The only problem was money. Since he wasn't able to go back to the lab, all he had were the few dollars he in his wallet. It would be enough to pay the fare for the ferry, but that was it. And then there was food. He had some in his backpack, but it wouldn't last more than two, possibly three, days if he stretched it. And how could he buy food for him and his Pokémon without money?

Well, he wasn't going to worry about that now. The most important thing was to get off the island and away from Professor Ivy. Fortunately, there were just a handful of tourists on the ferry – no one who would know him. With sweating palms, he handed his ticket to the attendant, found a seat far away from everyone, and waited anxiously until the ferry began to move.

It wasn't until the lights of Valencia Island had disappeared on the horizon that he began to breathe normally again.

For the next few days, Brock wandered around the various islands, making sure that he kept a low profile, fearing recognition by one of Professor Ivy's friends. He worked odd jobs here and there trying to save enough money for the fare for the boat ride home. What little food he had went to his Pokémon first. No matter what happened to him, he wasn't going to let them starve. However, that meant that he often went without food. At night, the growling in his stomach would keep him awake, but he would tell himself that less food meant more money for the boat, which meant the sooner he'd be safe.

As the days wore on, Brock grew weaker and weaker. Once in a while someone would take pity on him and give him some leftover food, but most of the time he went hungry. But the day finally came when he was able to board the boat back to Kanto. He had planned to head back home to Pewter City, but when he nearly collapsed when the boat docked in Pallet Town, he knew that he wouldn't make it back home. He didn't have the strength to walk all the way back to Pewter City. By now, he was so weak that he could barely stand. 

If he could just make it to Ash's mother's house, then he'd be safe there. She had let him and Misty live with her for a month before the Pokémon League competition last year, and he knew that she'd have something to eat.

He walked until his legs finally gave out underneath him, then he crawled on his hands and knees like a baby until he spotted the little white house in the distance.

"I did it."

--- 

"Feeling better, Brock?" 

The boy nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. 

Delia placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. "You didn't get to eat this earlier, so I saved it for you."

Brock took a taste of the oatmeal and sighed in pleasure. "Thanks, Mrs. Ketchum. This is great."

"Well, you just eat as much as you want, Brock. There's plenty more where that came from. Do you want some milk to go with that?"

Brock nodded. "You know, the last time I had oatmeal was when Ash and Misty and I were on our way back here from Viridian City. Ash says that my oatmeal is almost as good as yours."

Delia smiled as she poured him a glass of cold milk. "I'm glad that Ash had you to watch over him and Misty while they were traveling. Ash has told me more than once that you're like a combination big brother and mother to him."

Brock blushed. "It was no trouble at all, Mrs. Ketchum. I had to take care of my ten brothers and sisters after my mom died, so taking care of two kids wasn't a big deal."

Delia handed Brock his glass of milk and sat down at the kitchen table. "Ash told me about your mother, Brock. I'm sorry. That must've been so hard for you, especially after your dad left."

Brock sighed. "Yeah. It was. But now that my dad's back, he's taking care of everyone while I travel around."

"Dad…oh no! I just realized that I haven't called your father yet to let him know that you're here. How could I have been so careless?" Delia hopped up from the table.

"Wait, Mrs. Ketchum. That's okay. You don't have to call my dad."

Delia was puzzled. "Why not, Brock? Don't you think he should know that you're here and you're safe?"

"My dad and I don't talk much. I guess I still haven't forgiven him for running out on us when Mom died."

"Brock, even if he did run out on you, he's still your father. And I'm sure that he'd want to know that you're all right."

"We've talked only a couple of times since I left to travel with Ash and Misty. He's too busy taking care of my brothers and sisters now. Besides, I was always closer to my mom than my dad."

Noticing the boy's sad expression, Delia laid her hand atop Brock's. "You miss her a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, Mrs. Ketchum. She used to feed me things like oatmeal and chicken soup when I was sick, just like you do. That's how I learned how to cook - from watching her. She also taught me how to do other things like how to sew and do the laundry. That way, I was able to help her out while she was taking care of my little brothers and sisters."

"Sounds like she was a pretty amazing woman," Delia smiled.

"She was, Mrs. Ketchum. You know, you kind of remind me of her. She had red hair like yours. Actually, being here with you… it's almost like having Mom back."

Delia, choking back tears, squeezed the boy's hand sympathetically. "Brock, while you're here, I hope you'll think of me as your mother. And I hope you know that you can trust me enough to confide in me about anything at all."

Brock bit his quivering lip. "Thanks, Mrs. Ketchum. That really means a lot to me."

Delia gripped the boy's hand tightly. "Brock, what happened on Valencia Island? Did something bad happen to you there?"

Brock closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. But I can't tell anyone about it, Mrs. Ketchum. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell anyone about it."

"Brock, I want to help you. Please tell me what happened. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"I wish I could, Mrs. Ketchum, but it's just too…too painful for me to talk about."

"All right, Brock. But whenever you do want to talk, just let me know. I'll always be here for you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock replied, trying hard not to break down in tears.

--- 

Later that night, Brock lay on his bed in Ash's room, staring out the window at the starry sky.

He wanted to tell her what had happened to him on Valencia Island. But just thinking about all the horrible things that Professor Ivy had done to him made him ill. And ashamed.

Who could he tell? His father? Professor Oak? No, they'd say the same thing.

__

You're a man, Brock. You were stronger than she was. Why didn't you fight her off? Make her stop?

But Brock believed that a man should never hit a woman under any circumstances – even if she was doing all sorts of unspeakable things to you.

If his mother had been alive, he would've told her. She would've held him close, let him cry, and made everything all right.

Maybe someday he would tell Mrs. Ketchum. Let her hold him close, let him cry, and make everything all right. 

But everything wasn't all right. It would never be all right again.

__

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

"Good morning, Delia," Professor Oak smiled as he rode up on his bicycle. "What are you doing out here in the garden? At this time of the morning, you're usually hard at work cleaning up the house."

Delia, who was in mid-sip of a glass of lemonade, patted the place next to her on the bench and scooted over to make room for her visitor. "Actually, Brock is the one's who's busy cleaning up the house right now. Muffin?" She held out a plate of freshly baked blueberry muffins. "Brock made them. I think his recipe is better than mine, actually."

"These are delicious," Professor Oak remarked, stuffing a bite of still-warm muffin into his mouth. "But I don't understand why Brock is busy cleaning up the house. The boy needs to get some rest."

"I tried telling him that, Samuel, but he said that he was feeling better and insisted on helping me out around the house. He said that it was his way of thanking me for all I've done for him. He told me that I should just relax and be a lady of leisure."

Brock, who was dressed in a frilly pink apron and matching kerchief, poked his head out the door. "I thought I heard you out there, Professor." He handed a glass of lemonade to the surprised-looking professor. "Here. It's fresh-squeezed and ice-cold. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to vacuuming the living room. Mimie keeps fighting me for the vacuum." 

"That's the happiest I've seen him since he got here," Professor Oak said, taking a sip of the lemonade. "And this is fantastic lemonade."

"Brock enjoys taking care of the house," Delia smiled. "Almost as much as I do. It's like therapy to him."

"Maybe it'll assist with his recovery," Professor Oak said. "Speaking of which, I've been doing some thinking about that."

"Did you come up with any ideas?" Delia asked, interested. "Is there some way we can get an investigation into what that woman did to Brock?"

Professor Oak shook his head. "Unless Brock comes out and tells them what Professor…I mean, that woman did to him, there's not much we can do."

"But I don't understand. Why can't you tell the university authorities about what she did? They believed you before."

"Delia, even though I'd like to think that the university believed me based on my reputation, the real reason why they didn't fire me when they thought I was having an affair with you was that they didn't want to lose their cash cow."

"Cash cow? I don't understand."

"I was one of the top researchers at Celadon University. I brought in a lot of grant money to the university, and they didn't want to lose me. So they said that they believed my side of the story so that they could keep me on and keep the money flowing. And that's where the problem lies. Professor…that woman is also one of the top researchers in the world of Pokémon biology. The university certainly wouldn't want to lose her."

"So you're saying that even if she did do something wrong, they won't do anything to her?"

Professor Oak nodded. "Yes. It's all about politics. Even though the university said publicly that they believed my side of the story, they stopped sending me female research assistants after that." A light bulb clicked on in Professor Oak's head. "Wait a minute. That's it!"

"That's what, Samuel?"

"I know what to do now. The dean of the department of Pokébiology at Celadon University is a friend of mine. Perhaps I can persuade him and some of his colleagues to stop sending male assistants to Professor…the lab on Valencia Island."

"Do you think that will work?"

"It's certainly worth a try. I'll head back to the lab and give him a call."

"But what about Brock?"

"Like I said before, Delia, Brock has to be the one to make accusations of improper behavior against that woman. And unless he does, there's not much else we can do."

"I tried to get him to talk to me about it yesterday, but he wouldn't tell me what happened."

"Based on how he reacted yesterday, I'd say that he's probably too traumatized to discuss it with anyone. But keep trying and see if you can help crack his shell."

"I will."

"I'd better be getting back to the lab. Oh…almost forgot." He reached into his pocket and handed Delia a spring and a tube of glue.

"No, Mimie! I want to do the dishes!"  
"Mime-mime!"

Delia sighed and stood up. "Guess I'd better get back inside. It sounds like Brock and Mimie are fighting over who gets the clean the house." Delia took the spring and tube of glue from her companion. "Maybe I'll let Brock fix the screen door and let Mimie repair the cup."

--- 

Several days later, a healthier-looking Brock and his friends headed down the road to begin a new adventure in Johto.

"Did he ever tell you what happened on Valencia Island?" Professor Oak asked Delia as they headed back up the road to the Ketchum house. Professor Oak had already sent his new assistant Tracey on ahead to start getting acquainted with his lab.

Delia shook her head. "No."

"At least I was able to persuade a couple of my friends at Celadon University to think twice about sending male graduate students to Professor Ivy's lab," Professor Oak said. "But there won't be a formal inquiry into her conduct unless Brock speaks up."

"Maybe someday he'll tell Ash and Misty," Delia said. "He's lucky to have good friends to help him through the hard times." 

"He's lucky to have you to help him through this tough time, Delia," Professor Oak smiled. "That young man seems to think a lot of you."

Delia blushed. "I think he developed a bit of a crush on me while he was here. But I told him that he needed to spend time with girls his own age."

"Well, he certainly took your advice. I caught him making eyes at my granddaughter the other day," Professor Oak chuckled.

Delia smiled. "That's good. I was afraid this whole situation would have made him afraid to have a relationship with a girl. That he couldn't trust women ever again."

"I think you did a lot to restore his trust in women, Delia. You're a pretty amazing woman, you know."

Delia blushed again. "Thanks, Samuel." 

As the three youths disappeared around a bend, Delia's forehead creased with worry. "Do you think he'll be all right, Samuel?" 

Professor Oak gave her a reassuring smile. "As long as Brock has good friends like Ash and Misty – and you – by his side to help him through the tough times, I think he'll be just fine, Delia." 

Delia reached for her companion's hand. "That's true. After all, I had a good friend to help me through a tough time long ago. And I don't know what I would've done if he hadn't been there for me."

Samuel's fingers entwined around hers. "I'll always be there for you, Delia. Don't ever forget that." 

"I know. And thank you." Delia leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. "Now you'd better get back to your lab and help out that new assistant of yours."

Even though he would've liked to have remained at Delia's front gate the rest of the day, holding her hand and kissing her, he did have to get back and get Tracey oriented with the workings of his laboratory.

"Go on," Delia smiled, giving him a gentle push in the direction of his house.

Samuel watched as Delia turned and headed back up the sidewalk to her front door. With a wave, she disappeared inside the little white house and shut the door.

Reluctantly, Samuel began the brief trek up the road to his house. As he reached the bridge at the front gate of his property, he looked back down the path and caught sight of Delia, wearing her favorite gardening hat, in her backyard. With a smile, he began to whistle a little tune to himself and started up the stairs to his front door.

Yes, with a good friend on your side, everything would be all right.

THE END


End file.
